


Caught

by LadyGlinda



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Crack Treated Seriously, Drabble, Humor, John Is So Done, John is pretty damn smart, John making deductions, M/M, No Seasons 3 Or 4, POV John Watson, Sibling Incest, holmescest, or so he thinks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-30
Updated: 2019-10-30
Packaged: 2021-01-13 07:09:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21240179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyGlinda/pseuds/LadyGlinda
Summary: After a long day at work, John comes home and finds Sherlock and Mycroft in the living room and confronts them, having made deductions that might be true or not.





	Caught

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SlytherinsDragon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlytherinsDragon/gifts), [Snoozydog](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snoozydog/gifts).

> Sparked by a conversation with SlytherinsDragon about door knockers and Snoozydog's new story :)

John looked up at the front door and sighed. How had he ended up with deducing what the position of the door knocker meant? A long day in the hospital and now having to keep up with Mycroft… He could literally hear their bickering…

But when he climbed the stairs, rather glad that Mrs Hudson didn't come out of her flat (as much as he liked her, she was a bit challenging sometimes and she and Sherlock’s brother didn’t get along that well and he really didn’t need to witness another front), he realised that there was no shouting coming from his and Sherlock's flat. Not even ghastly violin-plucking in order to drive big brother away. Were they talking like adults with each other for a change? Or was Sherlock just refusing to say a word and sulking in his armchair? Perhaps Mycroft had already left, his face looking as if he had bitten into a lemon!

He only wanted to have his peace and quiet for this day. He had done an additional shift, or half of one to be precise as another colleague had come in and he had been allowed to leave earlier than he had expected. He would take a shower and just go to bed after grabbing some tea and maybe a sandwich.

After opening the door, he saw at once that Mycroft had not actually left. His umbrella was leaning against the wall and this fine coat was not Sherlock's. He sighed. And then he heard Sherlock speak.

‘_I told you this case is not worth my time, Mycroft.'_

This haughty, annoyed tone…

‘_It didn’t harm you to give me your opinion about it, Sherlock.’_

Yeah, brothers indeed…

‘_In fact it did. I could have done so many more interesting things instead.’_

‘_Like what? Examining tobacco ash? How important!’_

‘_Shut up, Mycroft!’_

It was so tempting to sneak through the corridor and just go upstairs, foregoing tea and food, leaving the brothers to their pointless bickering. They would never get enough of that, would they? It was a mystery to John why Mycroft insisted on including Sherlock in his cases, especially after the debacle with Irene Adler. Sherlock had told him how she had lured him into unwillingly betraying the country the day after he had finally deciphered the code of her bloody phone. Now she was dead. Good. Sherlock had been under her spell. Anyway, Mycroft kept showing up with his sodding cases he could probably solve on his own. And for what? For being snarled at and insulted. He seemed to be a real masochist…

John took a deep breath and pushed the living room door open. And swallowed.

Sherlock and Mycroft Holmes were sitting in the two armchairs – Sherlock in his own, Mycroft in John’s. They were sitting upright and graceful as always; being elegant seemed to run in the family as much as sarcasm and arrogance did.

But Sherlock's hair looked a bit… strange. Too flat on the back of his head. There was a slight bruise in his bottom lip. And his collar was crumpled. And Mycroft? The top button of his waistcoat was gone. He was sitting with his legs crossed and John could see that one of his socks was not quite in the right place.

Damn… He should have seen this coming. All this bickering and tension must eventually lead to this. Over years they had been provoking each other.

He sighed. He was tired and hungry and had no energy to deal with such a topic now. “Listen, boys. I’ve been witnessing your weird behaviour for years now! And now this? How _could _you!”

Sherlock blushed furiously and he swallowed visibly. “John...”

“No, it was my fault,” Mycroft threw in. His eyelids were twitching.

“Ah, nice that you want to protect your brother. But I bet he was all over you, right?”

Now Mycroft flushed a deep shade of red. “He was but…”

“I really have enough!” John glowered at both of them. “Bickering and snarling, bad enough, but this? In our living room?” He gestured at the couch that had been moved since this morning, and obviously not because anyone had used the vacuum cleaner. “On the couch?!”

“John, let me explain,” Sherlock said, sounding uncharacteristically meek.

“I won’t have it, you hear me? Two grown men! Brawling like some sodding schoolboys!” And then pretending they had just had the kind of conversation that passed as normal for them as they were embarrassed about being caught. 

Sherlock stared at him and his lips twitched. Mycroft gaped as if he had never heard anything that astonishing. Holmeses! Thinking they were the only ones who could make deductions! Ha! He was beating them at their own game! All those years watching Sherlock do it must have rubbed off on him eventually!

Mycroft cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, John. We won’t do it again.”

“Not here for sure,” Sherlock mumbled and Mycroft shot him a fierce glance.

“Not here?!” John shook his head. “Listen, you say sorry now, to each other, and then I want to see you embrace!”

Sherlock burst out laughing and Mycroft glowered at him. “Yes, John,” Sherlock chuckled then. “You are so right. Brother, can you forgive me?”

“I definitely can,” Mycroft said. “And I’m very sorry, too.”

John nodded. “Fine. And now – embrace! I won’t say it again!” Physical contact worked wonders in such situations. And he knew Sherlock never touched anyone and he couldn’t imagine it was any different for Mycroft. It would reach even their deeply hidden hearts!

The brothers stood up, looking tremendously awkward, standing so close to each other.

“I’m waiting!” John encouraged them.

Mycroft made the first step and grabbed Sherlock by the shoulders, and Sherlock gingerly patted his brother’s sides.

“Ah, you can do better. A real hug, come on!”

Very slowly the two Holmes men got closer and then Sherlock wrapped his arms around his brother’s waist, and Mycroft closed his arms around him.

“See! Isn’t that much nicer!” John was very pleased.

“It is,” Sherlock confirmed, his face against Mycroft's neck.

“I’ll make tea now. You want some?”

“That would be lovely, John,” Mycroft said, and John gave him a smile and turned to go into the kitchen.

He would insist on the brothers embracing each other every time Mycroft came along now. Little by little, they would start to like one another he was sure, and wouldn’t that be so much nicer for everybody!

_He missed the moment when Sherlock pinched his brother’s arse and brushed a kiss on his mouth and got an admonishing slap onto his own behind in return before Sherlock and Mycroft shared a loving smile._


End file.
